The Rise and Fall of Crimson Dawn
by Madam RedRose25
Summary: After a particularly bad night spent at Tegridy Farms, Stan is struck with the idea of forming a death metal band to let out his frustrations. Butters, Kenny, and Jimmy are all on board and together go through trial, error, critique, and more as they try to get their band, and biopic movie, made.


**THE RISE AND FALL OF CRIMSON DAWN**

The morning of September 9th was cool and pleasant. Fresh morning dew sparkled on the millions of weed leaves growing on one residence- 1402 Tegridy Farms. Currently two of the residents were asleep in their beds but not for long. Suddenly the clock radio hit 6:10 A.M. and broke into the morning chit-chat of the day.

"Good mornin' all ye Weed County listeners! Nice to have ya'll with us on this fine Monday mornin'!" greeted the sounds of a woman with a strong southern accent.

Stan groaned when he heard his radio go off. He didn't want to get up, not yet.

"Let's take a look at the weather. For that we'll go to Big Bill. What can ya tell us Bill?"

"Well Cindy according to my calculations it is currently a nice chilly 53 degrees out right now at the studios. We should reach a high of maybe 76 degrees this afternoon. Won't that be lovely?"

"Surely would there Big Bill! We'll catch up with ye in five minutes there Bill. In the meantime let's hear a word from our sponsors. Once again, I'm Cindy and ya'll are listen' to 102.5, Weeeeed County Grooves."

Stan blinked tired eyes at the ceiling, listening in for a few seconds of a radio ad for JoJo's Coffee Clatch before switching the radio off. He missed waking up to the daily shenanigans of Big Harry and Mike back in South Park. But he now lived thirty miles out of Park County and no longer got the usual radio stations. He was stuck with a few very lame ones out here in 'Weed County'. There was more variety of music on this radio station. Sure, the newest music that was played was from the year 1995 but it was better than the three country stations, oldies, or Christian music stations. Stan let out a great yawn and rubbed his itching eyes. He was really beginning to hate waking up so early in the morning now in order to get ready for school. He went to bed around nine each night like he always did however he woke an hour earlier now but there was no way he'd go to bed earlier than that just to catch an extra hour of sleep. Unfortunately his stupid dad was not backing out of his latest idea, not yet. He felt just as strong about his Tegridy Brand Weed now as he did the very first day the Marsh family moved to this farm.

Yawning one last time Stan threw his covers off and placed his feet on the cold floor to get ready for the day. He had to be ready to go by 6:45 so his mother could drive to the nearest bus strop which he would then hop on that would take him to school. It was a pain and sometimes Stan wished his mother could just drive him to school herself but he didn't blame her, South Park was now a good hour away from the farm. Stan met up with her and his sister in the kitchen.

"Eat up while you can. Your father is busy checking this morning's crop," Sharon rolled her eyes as she passed along French toast to her son.

Stan's heart swelled at the breakfast- French toast was his favorite. He had his mom make for him every week. Lately though Randy would force the family to try out his homemade hemp products before any real food was to be eaten. Stan, Sharon, and Shelley had been forced to hurry up with meals and fill up on what they could that was actual food or else sneak in food before Randy could bully them into eating his version of delights. Now it had been at least two weeks without his favorite breakfast dish and Stan was having withdrawals. He stuffed his face with the sweet pan-fried bread, sipping chocolate milk in-between.

"Now you kids have everything you need for school today, right? I do not want to get a phone call that I have to bring something for either of you, not now," Sharon exasperated as she sat down with a cup of coffee.

"Yes Mom," both kids spoke.

"Good. Now don't take too long getting ready. I want you both downstairs at 6:45, understand?"

Five minutes later Stan hurried upstairs to get dressed. Nowadays he made sure he had everything he needed for the day packed and ready by the foot of his bed that way he wouldn't forget it. When he had to call his mom to tell her he had forgotten two school library books that were due that day last week… well, it was definitely his responsibility as of now to keep track of such things. He wasn't forgetful usually, but it was easier living back home in good ol' South Park where the longest his mom had to drive to give him something was five minutes.

Stan opened his dresser to take out a pair of jeans and socks. He frowned as he slowly opened up the middle drawer that was filled with 100 % Hemp Tegridy Farms t-shirts. He had been wearing one every day for months now. He really was getting sick of it. He thought for a moment before closing that drawer and opening the one below that held his other t-shirts. He riffled through them and found a personal favorite- a blue shirt that had dozens of footballs, baseballs, soccer balls, and basketballs flying all around the shirt with the words 'Sports Life' written in cool red font on the front. Honestly it didn't really matter what shirt he was wearing most days as he didn't take off his jacket too often. Today was another day to break the chain however… he spotted his favored brown jacket hanging in his closet. He put on the t-shirt and buttoned up his jacket before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Stan, Sharon, and Shelley were close to being able to leave the house without spotting Randy that morning however he finally had caught up with them at the car parked near the barn.

"Good mornin' there family. Takin' the young'uns to school there Wife?" Randy spoke as he leaned on the frame of the barn.

"Just to the bus stop," Sharon spoke.

"Well then when you come back make sure- wait! Hold up a second!" Randy shouted. "Stanley! What the hell are you wearing?"

Stan looked down at his jacket. "My brown jacket. The same one I've worn since I was six until you forced me to wear your stupid Tegridy Farms shirt when we moved here," he bit back.

Randy opened his mouth in anger and had his hands on his hips. "I haven't forced you to do anything! Anyway, you better have your Family Business shirt under that jacket of yours!"

Glaring even more now Stan unbuttoned his jacket to reveal his _Sports Life_ t-shirt with pride.

Randy gasped. "What the hell is that?"

"My favorite shirt I decided to wear today since sports is what I like, not the 'Family Business," Stan spoke with air quotes.

Randy shook his head before he waved a finger in his son's face. "I will have none of that backtalk young man! You go to your room right now!"

"My room is back in South Park! And- wait- I'm about to go to school- fuck you!" Stan pointed a gloved finger up to his father's face.

"Stanley I will not"-

"We will discuss this later, come on," Sharon placed a hand behind her son's head indicating he should get in the car.

"Sharon, I will not have him"- Randy began.

"Later okay? I will not have the kids miss the morning bus into South Park again." Sharon gave him a hard look before getting into the driver's seat and pulling up and off the Tegridy Farms property.

The ten minute car ride to the bus stop was tense. Stan finally broke the silence.

"How can you stand being married to him?"

Sharon parted her lips slowly, trying to find the right words. "Marriage is a tricky thing Stanley. I know it doesn't make much sense right now but it's not an easy thing to do, splitting up with someone."

"You and Dad divorced twice already," Stan pointed out.

Sharon sighed. "I don't want to talk about this right now honey. There's no time. I promise we'll discuss it tonight before bed, okay?"

Stan shrugged and spoke no more. They finally arrived at the bus stop where he allowed his mother to kiss him good-bye before he and Shelley hopped on board on the hour ride into town. It was a little odd to ride the same bus as his sister to school again. Thankfully Shelley was just as annoyed about living on the stupid farm as he was so there had been less fights between the two lately. Shelley pulled out a book to read on the ride while Stan slumped back a little in his seat and closed his eyes for a little cat-nap. The city bus made stops at South Park Elementary, South Park Jr. High, and South Park High School on its route. The Jr. High was on the outskirts of town so it was the first stop.

"See ya later turd," Shelley waved to her little brother and hopped off.

Eight minutes later the bus stopped in front of South Park Elementary. Stan hopped off, panicking when he checked his phone to see that it was already 7:58. The damn bus was late by ten minutes today! He hurriedly ran into school and up the stairs and into Mrs. Nelson's classroom.

The Asian teacher glanced behind her as she wrote some morning warm-up questions on the blackboard.

"Stanley, you know the rules, no backpacks are allowed in the classroom."

"Sorry. Didn't- didn't have time to go-go to my locker," Stan wheezed as he took his seat.

Mrs. Nelson shook her head. "Sorry dear but I can't let this one slide by this time. Not after you were late and came into the classroom with your backpack last Wednesday as well. I'm going to have to write your name on the board and you will need to stay in here during first recess today."

"What? That's not fair! If I still lived in town I would"- Stan complained but his teacher raised her hand to silence him.

"I have to do it Stan. It's not fair to the other children if I let you off the hook. Now please take your seat and as well as your Morning Warm-Up notebook and answer today's questions."

Growling under his breath, Stan dug into his backpack to fish out his notebook and pencil box. Mrs. Nelson was a lot fairer than Mr. Garrison, however this also meant she had her own rules everyone had to abide by and unlike Mr. Garrison, actually handed out discipline in a structured and firm way. As Stan wrote down the few sentences on the board where he had to circle which words were verbs he couldn't help but notice Kyle's seat was empty and that Cartman's smile this morning looked slightly more cunning than usual. That couldn't be good. First recess was at ten and while all the other kids were able to go outside and enjoy the sun for fifteen minutes Stan had to stay behind and do some lame math puzzle sheet. Thankfully lunch rolled by at twelve and he could finally catch a break from the stifling classroom. After he purchased his lunch for the day he took up a seat where the other boys from his classroom were. Nobody spoke at first.

"All right Cartman give it up. Where's Kyle?" Stan exasperated as he ate his chicken sandwich.

Cartman chuckled. "Yew guys will not believe it. There's an actual way to get rid of filthy rats like _Kahl_ and his family!" he snorted laughter into his nachos.

Although he didn't fess up exactly where he was he explained that he indeed did do something to make sure Kyle was detained until further notice. Stan sighed as he started gloomily into his mixed fruit cup, not too hungry anymore. Great, his best friend would be gone for days or even weeks. Not what he needed right now. Stan was almost beginning to feel as if his life were falling apart yet again like it did after his tenth birthday. Sure, things weren't quite as dramatic as they were then but he was still feeling the beginning stages of depression yet again. Sometimes he wished he'd let things go but lately his dad was really making him angry…

After school had ended Stan decided to hang around town for a bit before he was to be expected back 'home' for dinner. He was upset Kyle wasn't available to hang with and was too pissed off at Cartman now to want to be around him either. He ended up playing basketball at the park with Kenny and Butters and got some ice cream at the hip spot Ice Cream Palace. It was difficult to feel too angry at the moment as he ate peanut butter cookie crunch in a waffle bowl with sprinkles but then he got a text from his dad demanding him to be on the next bus ride back to the farm. He had chores he had to complete still. Stan regretfully waved goodbye to his friends and walked to the bus station and onto the bus to Weed County ten minutes later. It was already 6:30 by the time he reached home.

"Hurry in! You still have to rake the back porch and sweep up in the three-season room!" Randy barked as Stan stepped into the house.

Stan did a half-ass job before it was time for dinner. His mother had thankfully been able to get first dibs on the kitchen that night and had prepared actual food for the family. Stan hungrily dug into his spaghetti and meatballs while his dad tried to strike up conversation at the table.

"So, how was everyone's day? That little ol' schoolhouse teach you anything good today son?" Randy spoke as he ate his own dinner creation that of course used hemp.

"Well I'm pissed off. Kyle wasn't at school. Cartman got him detained in Mexico or whatever for being Jewish," Stan spoke.

"Well it might feel pretty awful now but friends come and go. What's important is family. And the family business. As long as you work hard here and earn your keep then that's all you'll ever need," Randy explained.

Stan gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on his fork. "'Earn my keep'? I'm your fucking son!"

"And you're doing a pretty shitty job promoting this farm! Don't tell me you actually walked around today with that stupid coat over you?"

"I always wear this coat!"

"To not wear your Tegridy Farms shirt is bringing shame to the family name Stanley!"

"No, _you're_ bringing shame to the family name Dad!" Stan accused, getting to his feet.

Sharon and Shelley exchanged surprised looks as father and son faced each other across the dinner table.

"I hate this place! We all do! I want off the fucking farm and to go back home! But you don't care about any of that because anything I ever say goes in one ear and out the other! Fuck this place! Fuck you!" Stan cried out and hurried upstairs.

"That's it! Stanley-go to your room!" Randy shouted even though he was already half-way up the stairs already.

Stan spent a good hour with his face pressed into his pillow in the dark room he had been sleeping in the past few months. He hated this room, there was hardly anything familiar or comforting about it. When his dad purchased the farm much of the previous owner's furniture was still inside and so the bed he had been sleeping on was different than his one back in South Park. Much of the family's things were in storage. Little by little they took out some things to make the farm homier but it didn't matter, the place would never be home. Yeah the bedroom was slightly bigger than the one back in South Park. The entire house was. But so what? He still didn't have his favored Broncos lamp or football and baseball lamp. None of his posters hung in the room and his baseball themed toy box was still in storage too. A few toys and boxes of Legos were set about the room. The majority of his clothes were in the dresser and closet. However he was able to display some of his board games in the room now. Stan did have a feeling his mom thought this farm thing would be temporary and thus didn't feel the need to unpack everything they owned here. It made sense; even if he were missing those familiar things having them set up in here would mean the stay on the stupid farm was more permanent.

Stan made his way into the bathroom to take a bath. He usually left baths for days he felt really annoyed. He sat in the tub for a while, thinking about things. Twenty minutes later he sighed and dunked his head under water to wash out the shampoo that had been sitting in it for a while. When he got into his room he felt his stomach bubble in hunger since he had left in the middle of dinner which was unfortunate since actual food was served that night. He went into his closet, opened a box and took out a Butterfinger and began munching. He had been sneaking in candy and such into his room for years. He never followed his mother's silly 'no sweets after eight' rule. Again, he wasn't some fatass like Cartman but he definitely had a big sweet tooth. He took a sip of water from his water bottle he left in his backpack earlier that day before wrapping up the rest of his nightly rituals.

It was now 9:30 and he was already under his covers, lights off. He heard a soft knock on his door. A second later his mom stepped into the frame.

"I wanted to see if you were asleep yet," she told him.

"Not yet," Stan sighed.

Sharon stood there for a moment before closing the door behind her and walked towards her son's bed.

"Mom… again, why are you still married to Dad?"

Sharon sighed and took a seat on the bed near his feet. "I'm not going to lie and say I ask myself the same thing often. But I said before, marriage is tricky. Sometimes you do find yourself supporting each other's ridiculous dreams and ideas because you want to make your spouse happy. So you know you have each other's back when things might get real tough."

"But there's no way you think this weed farm thing is going to work out," Stan remarked.

Sharon let out a slow breath again. "A part of me is hopeful I'm not going to lie. Yes your father has had some pretty crazy ideas in the past and well, truthfully, this is the one he seems most passionate about. Business is slow right now but is still going on strong enough to pay the bills. I'm also lucky too that Dr. Tom has allowed me to work from home so I can put in my share here as well," she explained, speaking of her boss at Tom's Rhinoplasty.

Stan glared up into the smooth white celling above. "Dad's making me so mad lately. I can't stand it. I hate living here. The house is cold despite it being a farm house. Half my stuff's in storage. The weed makes me feel like I constantly have a cold. I found out I'm allergic to two new things in this area! Dad's so money hungry and is so fucking frustrating! He is just tossing aside all our feelings for what he wants. _Again_. I'm sick of it Mom. You have to tell him to stop."

Sharon raised a brow as she looked down at her son. "You really think he's going to listen to me?"

Stan crossed his arms over his chest to signify his frustration. "True. That fucking selfish asshole."

"Stanley," Sharon bit back. "I know you're upset but he is still your father. He is doing what he thinks is best for the family. I know it's selfish but try to ride it out a little longer. I miss home too. The easy thing would be to pack up you kids and the three of us move back to South Park but your father would be very angry at us if we did that. You're a strong kid Stan; I'm sure you can figure a way to cope till then." She got to her feet and rubbed his stomach for a second.

"Where is he anyway? I'm sure he thinks we're conspiring against him," Stan spat.

"He's outside talking to the- well, he's doing some last-minute chores." Sharon bent down to give him a kiss and shut the door behind her.

Stan lay awake in bed for the next ten minutes, thinking about what his mom said. Yes the ideal thing would be to just run away into the night but his dad would find out easily. Yes Stan loved his father but lately… it really was taking a lot of effort to act civil towards him. He was the only one who wanted to be on this stupid farm so naturally Stan, his mom, and sister were building up resentment towards him. Cope… he needed a way to cope until his dad would give up and they'd move back. Stan gasped, sitting up. He threw his covers over, opened his closet and ruffled through a box that was inside. His 'Daily Musings' notebook lay near the bottom. Not like he wrote in it often. Feeling a little excited now, Stan also grabbed a pencil and flashlight and began writing things down.

Three days later…

Stan was feeling a little anxious and excited as he took the bus to the school that morning. He really thought he had a great idea but would his friends agree? He was sure that if Kyle were around right now he would jump on the idea in a heartbeat. Nevertheless, he had to take a chance to see what everyone else had to say. Maybe it was a good thing too that that day everyone in class had to read a poem they had written in front of the class during their language arts lesson that morning. Many times teachers in the past as well as his parents told him there was no right or wrong way to write poetry. It just happened. And so when Stan's name was called for his turn up front he mustered up all his confidence before addressing the class.

"Um, this is just something I wrote last night that I thought I would share," Stan glanced up from his paper.

"Whenever you are ready Stan," Mrs. Nelson prompted.

Stan cleared his throat and began:

"Surrender your souls young ones,

Feel your demons take over,

Watch as the man abandons his loved ones.

Young child cries out 'get me off this fucking farm!'

Get me off!

Get me off!

Fuck this place already.

Ash and embers rain down, the man surrenders his soul.

His soul.

Mother cries. The child dies.

Hell has taken over. Death forever."

Stan looked up at the shocked expressions on his teacher and peers. He sighed and took his seat.

"Umm, well, that was um, enlightening Stan. Thank-you," Mrs. Nelson nervously placed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Who wants to go next? Butters? I'm sure you have something a little more upbeat to share with the class?"

Five minutes later the bell for lunch rung. Stan got up but was called back by his teacher. Great, he was afraid this might happen. Now she was going to worry he might have mental problems and to head to Mr. Mackey's office. After the councilor would suggest something was indeed wrong with him, the nurse would be called in and his parents would be notified. Things were falling together all over again just as horribly as they had done after his tenth birthday!

"Yes?" Stan looked up at his teacher.

"Stanley, I couldn't help but feel a little alarmed after you shared your poem to the class. Are things okay at home?"

Stan sighed. "No. I'm still living on the stupid weed farm and my dad doesn't want to move us back here. I hate it."

Mrs. Nelson rubbed her chin. "I see. And is that all?"

"I'm angry my best friend Kyle is gone right now too."

Mrs. Nelson nodded. "You aren't having certain- thoughts are you?"

"Thoughts?"

"Well, you know, harming yourself. Others?"

Stan's eyes went wide. "What? No! I'm just pissed off."

"I see. Well honestly I think your poem was very deep and thought provoking. I was thinking, if you needed an outlet for your frustrations would you consider putting those words to music? I remember you telling me one of your goals for the year was to learn guitar. Maybe now is the perfect time to do it," the black-haired teacher smiled down at him.

Stan's heart raced as a grin spread on his face. "I've actually been strumming a few things on the guitar my parents got me for Christmas last year lately."

"Great! In the meantime, perhaps I can have a word with Mr. Musiel and see if he'd be willing to allow you to use the music room to practice whenever it's not in use."

Stan's face broke in a full-out beam now. "You'd really do that?"

"I'd hate for such talent to be wasted. I'll talk to him today, okay? Now run off and enjoy your lunch."

Stan had a quick pace as he walked down the halls towards the cafeteria. He spotted Jimmy by the front door of the cafeteria. Stan went to open the door for him.

"Th-thanks Stan," Jimmy smiled.

"You're late to lunch," Stan commented as he followed after him into the line for lunch.

"Had to take a phone c-call. I could say the same to you."

"I'll tell you soon. Actually, I kind of want to tell just you, Kenny, and Butters. Let's meet up somewhere together during recess, okay?"

Thankfully Stan was able to pass the message along to his friends and once lunch was over, the four of them gathered around his locker.

"That was some w-wicked words you shared this morning," Jimmy began as they all stood around.

"What's this about anyway Stan?" Butters asked.

"I just had the best idea last night. And the idea was only confirmed by Mrs. Nelson just now. She told me I have potential and should take up to writing music! I told her I've been doing some things on the farm with my guitar. Anyway, I was thinking… if you would want to help me with it?"

"With what Stan?" Kenny asked.

Stan was smiling now. "Form a band."

The other boys looked at each other, surprised.

"A- a band? That sounds like a fantastic idea," Jimmy was looking excited now too.

"What kind of band?" Butters asked.

"I'm not too sure yet, I'm still trying to find my sound," Stan rubbed his chin. "All I know is that it has to match well with this." He opened his locker and took out his 'Daily Musings' notebook.

"Are those more poems you wrote?" Butters pointed at the red notebook.

"Yeah. Just some stuff I've been writing."

"Can we hear some more?" Jimmy asked.

Stan raised a brow as he looked at each one of his friends' faces. "Really? You really liked the poem I shared with the class earlier?"

"Dude, it was open and honest. It was really good," Kenny commented.

"I thought it was raw and emotional. It really made me think," Butters frowned, almost as if concerned for the black-haired boy.

"You can't k-keep words like that bottled up. It has to be expressed. I would l-love to help you with it," Jimmy praised.

Stan opened his notebook to find another entry. He didn't recite it, instead opened it up for the others to read.

"Wow…" was all Butters could say a few minutes later.

"So? You think you want to put together something for these poems? Or shall I say- lyrics?"

"You bet Stan!" Butters clapped his hands in excitement.

"Great. Mrs. Nelson is going to talk to the music teacher today and there's a good chance he can help us out with a band."

After school ended that day Mrs. Nelson told Stan she had spoken to Mr. Muriel the music teacher that he would be available to help him out after class the next day. For the first time in a while Stan went back 'home' to the farm that evening in higher spirits. He spent much of the night experimenting with different sounds by listening to different types of music online. He had taken his laptop, guitar, and notebook into the barn to find his style. All he had to say to his mother was he was finding a way to cope with things and she left him alone. As Stan looked up different styles he did have to wonder what his part in his band would be. Probably lead singer even though he didn't know if he could hold a note for too long. But these words were his and so he had to be the one who sung them. Nope, that style didn't fit. Nor that. Or that… Stan then found a video in his suggestion box on YouTube from a band called Dying Fetus and curious he clicked. And listened. And fell in love. Could he produce a similar sound though? He picked a random set of lyrics in his notebook to experiment. He went at it a few more times before finally feeling confident in his ability to move ahead with his band idea. Yes, this felt right. He couldn't wait to tell the others.

The next morning Stan eagerly sought out his friends throughout the day to try and get things rolling. He first met Jimmy outside the door of their classroom.

"Dude! Jimmy, I have to ask before class begins- do you know how to play any instruments?"

Jimmy thought. "Well not pro-professionally. But I'll give anything a whirl. What did you have in m-mind?"

"Can you learn to play the drums?"

"You bet Stan," Jimmy smiled.

"Sweet."

Stan didn't get a chance to talk with Butters or Kenny until lunch. He asked them what, if any, instruments they could play.

"Well I can play the drums," Butters smiled as he dug into his hotdog.

"Um, Jimmy already said he'll do drums. Maybe there's something else you'd be good at?" Stan shrugged as he began his own lunch.

Butters rubbed his chin in thought. "Hmm… well I guess I could do guitar. It's not a rock band without guitar, right? I mean that is the music we'll be playing, right?"

"Yeah, something like that," Stan coughed. "Kenny? How 'bout you?"

"I don't know how to play anything but I can always learn too. Maybe I'll do bass," Kenny suggested.

"Awesome. Okay, with Jimmy on drums, Butters on guitar, you on bass, and me singing I think we have what it takes to be a legit band!"

After school had ended that day the boys met up with music teacher Mr. Musiel. He gave them some pointers as well as a list of good songs to jam to for beginners. Finally he gave them the number of a good store on the outskirts of town that sold discount instruments as well as rented out some. The next day was Saturday so it would be a good time to practice. It didn't take much for Stan to convince his mom to use the barn as a place for his band to jam. Sharon was simply happy that her son had found a healthy way to express himself and let out his frustration (that wasn't whiskey) that she even went into town the next day to pick up his friends and their rented equipment for their first session.

Butters, Jimmy, and Kenny played for a good hour to get a feel of the instruments. Meanwhile Stan stood back to take note and offer input.

"That was good you guys, really good. Kenny, how'd you learn the bass so quickly?" Stan looked amazed.

"Oh I spent time watching John Lennon play bass with the Dali Llama," Kenny answered.

"Hmm, well keep it up. That sounded really good. All of you were really good."

"Well what about you Stan? Exactly what kind of music will we be backing up?" Butters asked.

Stan frowned. He bit his lip before taking hold of a mike.

"This is just something I found online that I felt reflected how I feel right now. It might be a little shocking at first but I'm really into it right now."

"Fire away Stan," Jimmy encouraged.

Stan drew in a deep breath, took hold of the mike again, let out a gravely scream before belting out the lyrics:

"Splitting apart atom by atom

Choking on the dust- the stink of his flame

Liar! Deceiver! Ultimate betrayer!

Selfish pigs leave us behind forever!

Flesh rotting on my skin, melting from the eternal flame of the sun

This shithole must run its course- run and run and run and ruuuuunnnn!

Fuck it all and fuck his tongue, spitting acid in my eyes

Get me away from heeeerrreeee!

Let me run and run and ruuuuuunnn!

Back home where I belooooong!"

Stan turned off the mike and looked up, biting his lip.

"Wow dude, tell us how you really feel," Kenny joked.

Stan sighed. "Sorry, maybe we can try something else. I was just fiddling around with death metal last night and thought it sounded edgy."

"No, I like it. If that's how you truly feel then that's what we should play," Butters spoke.

"Your energy was incredible. The way you were able to sound so loud and hold a note. Not m-many kids can do that," Jimmy praised.

"So you really think you'd want to back me up with that same pace? C'mon, I wanna see if you can do it."

Butters, Jimmy, and Kenny went back to their instruments and began a beat again. Stan head banged for a moment before grabbing his mike again and screamed out the same lyrics he had just rehearsed a minute ago. Stan looked around at them with his mouth slightly open.

"You guys, I think we just formed a band," he said.

"B-bingo," Jimmy smiled.

"What should we call ourselves?" Butters asked excitedly.

Stan took out a paper and pen, tapping it to his lips. "It has to be something that captures who we are. Our style. Something with attitude."

"How about Screaming Lion?" suggested Kenny.

"No, that's too literal," Stan frowned.

"Black Death?" Jimmy asked.

"Naw… that's a bit too morbid…"

"Stan's Demons. No wait! _Stanley's_ Demons," Butters smiled, spreading his hands out to emphasize the words.

Stan glared at him. "Shut-up Butters."

"Darkness Arising? Or… Dark Ascending?" Kenny suggested.

Stan grinned. "Yeah something like that."

The next half hour was spent with the boys throwing out ideas but nothing was sticking yet. At this point Sharon had come poking around and offered refreshments for the four of them.

"How are things coming along?" She asked as she passed around cups and placed a pitcher of lemonade on a nearby table.

"All right. We're trying to come up with a good name for our band now," Stan answered as he got up to pour himself a cup as well as grabbed a cookie out of the Tupperware she brought out.

"Oh? Well good luck on that then. Oh and Stanley, there's a tarp over in the corner here to cover all your instruments and equipment when you boys have finished practice. Your father doesn't want you to be spending too much more time in here. Says you didn't complete your chores yet," Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Ughhh, fine."

"Just make sure you do them even if you half-ass it. You don't want to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow doing them, right? Well I will see you in the house soon then." With that she walked out.

Stan's brows furrowed in a deeper expression after she had left.

"S-something on your mind Stan?" Jimmy asked.

Stan slowly looked up. "Dawn… that's perfect!"

"Hmm?" Butters asked as he helped himself to refreshments now.

"I'm stuck on this fucking farm where nearly every day I have to be up at the crack of dawn! For school or chores or anything. It's perfect! Dawn… Dawn something…"

"Black Dawn?" Kenny shrugged.

"For the last time I don't want to use the word 'black' in our band name!"

"Red Dawn? Red's a pretty badass color isn't it? What with- with blood and darkness and such," Butters frowned.

Stan wrote down different words associated with the color of red on his paper before he smiled at one and circled it. "Guys- we are Crimson Dawn."

After the boys had rested on a name they really began going through all the work of an actual band. They got together at Tegridy Farms after school nearly every day, including weekends. Yes it did suck for them to have to take a bus to and from South Park that was nearly an hour long but it was worth it. Knowing his friends were behind him with his dark lyrics and sound made it worth it in Stan's mind. And he had every reason to continue. It's not as if his dad was trying too hard to be a part of his life at the moment. He was so consumed with his farm that it seemed to be the only thing he cared about. In a way Stan felt slightly hurt. Yes his dad was stupid and selfish but usually by now he would come around and try to bond with his family. October first was creeping up. Usually at this point of the year Stan and Randy were bonding over football season as well as baseball playoffs. Now that Randy was too busy tending to his weed Stan was left to watch sports alone. Of course watching the game with Kyle was always a given but he had still not returned from the detainment camp, nor had Cartman. Sharon wasn't too big a fan of sports and Shelley- ha, he didn't even want to go there. Stan would spend time watching football and baseball on TV downstairs for a little while before being too bored doing it by himself he'd just retreat upstairs to his room or out to the barn to practice. He would catch game highlights on his laptop or phone before bed…

September 20th. It was Friday so as usual the only thing on Stan's mind was the upcoming weekend. 2:41 P.M. … so close, he was so close to the bell ringing signaling freedom. Mrs. Nelson was explaining the homework for the weekend to those that were listening.

"The article you find has to pertain to a specific issue facing children of your age. Tell me in your own words how the article made you feel. This will be good vocabulary practice. I want you to also print out the article and underline every verb that you find. Yes, you will have to do this," the teacher explained while the class groaned. "We have been having troubles understanding verbs lately so it's time to get some more good practice in."

The bell finally rang and the students cried out in excitement and went to leave the door.

"Oh, Stanley, Butters, Kenny, and Jimmy, do you mind if I have a word real quick?"

Curious, the four of them walked over to Mrs. Nelson's desk.

"Did we do something?" Butters frowned.

"No, nothing like that. Actually Mr. Musiel was wondering if he could talk to you after class? He said he will leave the music room open for another fifteen minutes if you want to catch him."

Shrugging, the four boys went downstairs to see the music teacher. The graying teacher smiled when the boys entered the large room.

"There you boys are! Come in, come in!" he was just finishing up moving aside some stands and faced them.

"What's this about?" Stan asked.

"First off I wanted to ask how the band is coming along."

"Oh, well I say it's been pretty good. Hasn't it fellas?" Butters looked towards the others.

"Yeah, it's been pretty good," Stan agreed.

"Great. Listen, I don't know if you boys are aware but the 35th annual South Park Autumn Fest begins on the first. It's a popular gig for starting performers. A way to get their feet wet as the saying goes."

Stan glanced behind him before looking back up at the music teacher. "What do you mean?"

"Well if you four would be interested in playing I think it might really do you some good."

"Per-perform? In front of people? But we're just beginners," Butters looked unsure about the prospect.

"Most people are. And most people just do this for fun, preform on stage in front of a crowd. But if you are actually good you never know, someone might be watching and you could get some kind of lucky break. There is no official guidebook on who can and can't enter. As long as you're willing to perform you can," Mr. Musiel explained.

"Well it's Stan's choice at the end of the day. What do you think we should do?" Butters asked.

Stan thought hard for a minute. The chance to play something in front of a crowd- and hopefully his father would be present during it. The chance to really let him see and hear what living on the stupid farm was doing for him… he _had_ to be there. The Marsh family always made it out to Autumn Fest. Stan looked back up into the lined face of the teacher.

"Yeah, I want to do it."

"Great! Just be sure you hand this paper to your parents"- he handed over an orange sheet to each of them. "And have them sign it. Then you should get an official e-mail from the mayor's office giving you the details. I'm not sure what music you boys have been practicing but you seem very eager and excited about it so far so I'm sure it will be a treat to see," the man finished off, grinning some more.

"Yeah, it will be," Stan agreed.

The boys spent all their free time practicing for their first performance at the South Park Autumn Fest. The event lasted for three weeks with plenty of activities and live shows nightly. Crimson Dawn was set to perform Saturday, September the 28th at 2 P.M. The band spent time practicing a brand-new song to share with the crowd for that day. Stan was feeling pretty excited about everything although felt a little hesitant at the same time. He already had supporters- his mother, teacher, and music teacher; however none of them actually knew what kind of music they were performing. But it felt right, Stan was so consumed with anger at his father at this point that the only logical way to let it out- was to scream. He just hoped his dad took an hour of his time to see him perform, that way he'd finally hear just how he felt.

September 28th. Stan woke in a sour mood. At the last minute his stupid dad took off on a flight to China to try and expand his Tegridy Weed overseas. Stan tried to act unbothered but he was seething. He finally had a chance to show his dad how he was feeling but of course he had gone off to do his own selfish thing again. Butters, Kenny, and Jimmy had stopped by the farm to practice one last time before it was time to go. Sharon drove everyone down into town so they could get set up.

"Good luck boys! I know you'll be great. And I'm going to record everything, okay sweetie?" Sharon smiled at her son.

"I still don't know why you had to drag me here to see the stupid turd and his turdy friends perform," Shelley argued at her mother.

"Shelley, it's Autumn Fest. We always make it out here at this time. Plus your little brother has a band! It's so exciting knowing how talented he and his friends are. Be supportive for once."

"Will you be telling Dad how I do?" Stan had to ask.

"I will. I'm not sure how he'll respond but I will send him a video. Now hurry along!"

"Thanks Mom/Mrs. Marsh," the four boys spoke in unison and went off to get ready.

The minutes dragged on by in Stan's mind. He wanted to perform but at the same time was nervous. He sat in one of the folding chairs behind the stage, nervously wiggling his foot about.

"C'mon dude, you'll be great," Kenny spoke words of encouragement, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment.

"I know. It's not as if this is a serious thing, we're just playing in front of the town. But still… I hope they like our sound."

"They will. And if not, f-fuck them," Jimmy spoke.

Stan raised a brow his way.

"Music is art and if you have to a-alter your art, then it's no longer honest, is it?"

Stan grinned slightly. "True. Thanks dude."

Stan spent the remaining ten minutes before his band went on doing some breathing exercises he found online from other hardcore metal bands. The last thing he needed was to lose his voice halfway through the performance. Suddenly Mayor McDaniels came around to inform them that they were next. After the mayor bid farewell to the latest act, the South Park Sounderoos, she presented 'Stan Marsh and Crimson Dawn.' Stan followed his bandmates up on the stage, butterflies in his stomach. He looked on in the crowd to see his mother front and center, phone out, waving and ready to record. He fiddled with the mike, lowering it to his height.

"Um, hi. We're Crimson Dawn and um, this is a song I wrote about living out on the country on a farm."

A second later Jimmy, Butters, and Kenny began giving it their all on their instruments and Stan immediately got swept into the rocking music, gripping onto his hat as he readied himself for what was to come.

"Fate is over!

Open your eyes!

There is no hope, no second chance!

All the elders saw the fall of the sky!

Pride and glory!

To touch the sky, we've burned the earth!

Built our own infirmity!"

Five minutes later the performance ended. Stan looked on to see the stunned silence of the crowd. Even his mother looked unsure. There were a few scattered unenthused applause. Sighing, he went off the stage just as Mayor McDaniels took over again.

"Umm, okay. Thank-you for that boys. Once again, that was Stan Marsh and Crimson Dawn. Up next, Hank and Wilma with Happy Harmonies."

"Do you think we did okay?" Butters frowned as they went backstage again.

"We did great. We kicked ass," Stan immediately frowned.

"Hopefully my parents don't think there's something wrong with me. I don't want to be grounded from playing in the band," Butters said heavily.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the boys joining their families for the rest of the activities at Autumn Fest. Stan did enjoy the giant hay maze with his friends as well as dig into some apple cider donuts and hot chocolate. At the end of the evening his mother brought him one of the elaborate caramel apples covered with Oreo cookie pieces from a vender which he couldn't wait to dig into when he got home.

"So…what did everyone think?" Stan looked around at his family as his mom began the drive back home.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

"The devil must have had a hold of you today Billy," Grandpa Marsh spoke from the front seat.

"He didn't, not this time anyway…" Stan trailed; thinking on the time the devil really did take over his body for a while to overthrow the Canadian Devil.

"It sucked," Shelley spat.

"It- it was different Stanley," Sharon answered.

Stan sighed as he leaned into his seat. "Whatever. I knew no one would get it."

"Well maybe we didn't but it was pretty remarkable that you were able to scream like that. I never knew you had that in you. For that I must say I was impressed," Sharon commented.

"Well I guess it was easy enough since I'm so pissed off at things right now. But thanks. I think."

Monday September 30th. Stan couldn't remember feeling this excited about something in a while. Yesterday during practice a movie producer had come by the farm while the band was practicing and ended up loving their style and asked them to sign on to a biopic movie idea. This was it! This was the golden ticket Stan needed to get himself off and away from this stupid farm for good! It didn't take long for Crimson Dawn to agree on the movie and now ideas were being tossed around. It was now lunch and Stan, Butters, Kenny, and Jimmy were huddled around thinking about the direction of their biopic.

"I don't know you guys. I don't really like the idea of me being a former convict from juvie," Butters was saying.

"We have to exaggerate some things. That's the only way we'll be able to have a totally sweet biopic," Stan spoke as he tapped a pencil to the notebook in front of him, occasionally dipping chicken nuggets in some ranch.

"But it's dishonest. If my parents find out I was lying about my life then"-

"We have to lie about all our lives in order to make money so I can move off the fucking farm!" Stan raged. "Now, let's go back to the beginning. Kenny, you're okay that you'll be coming from an abusing household where your uncle raped you when you were young and your mom was on drugs when she was pregnant with you, right?"

Kenny nodded and gave a thumbs up.

"Jimmy, you're cool about your character eventually becoming a coke addict as well as realizing you're gay, correct?"

"Sounds g-good to me Stan," Jimmy smiled.

"Butters… you have to agree to the juvie thing. It's the only way this will work out, we all have tragic backstories," Stan turned to the blond boy.

"Well…well what story are you going with?"

Stan sighed as he tapped his notebook again. "I'm not sure. I like the idea that my dad has been a raging alcoholic since I was born and that his reckless behavior causes him to buy the stupid farm. He like, threatens my mom that if she ever tries to take us away he'll kill us. It will be kinda cool to turn Shelley into something completely different that how she is in real life too…"

"Maybe you can have her want to protect you from your drunken dad?" Kenny suggested.

"Hey, hey ya. That's not bad. Like, Shelley was so afraid Dad would hurt me that she took all of his abuse instead. To protect me from him. I like the idea of Shelley actually being a big sister to me. Good thinking Kenny."

"Are you sure we should lie about ourselves so much? Won't people find out the truth anyway?" Butters asked.

"Hey, the movie producer wants a tragic story about the band so that's what we're going to deliver!"

As cool was it was that Crimson Dawn was in the works of a biopic it didn't stop Stan from feeling annoyed. Not long into the first shoot of the day did he begin to get flagged down by Chinese censors. This pissed him off greatly. Anything he did write and rewrite would be tossed aside and changed to please the Chinese people. Yes, Stan knew there were many things exaggerated and changed in the script than how they were in real life but it was supposed to be a movie, something exciting, thrilling, and emotional. Even if a few things would be hard to watch or talk about once filmed.

October 2nd. Stan had been told earlier that day by the movie producer that he had to go back to the starting point and rewrite the entire movie script, and this time write it from his heart. Stan didn't know if he could do that, he wanted to write something engaging and dramatic for the masses. Maybe he was getting too far into his head. Who would really be into his own personal story? Somebody had to. Somebody had to help him off this farm! Suddenly struck with ideas, he smiled as he put pencil to paper and began to write.

_Crimson Dawn's story takes place in a middle-of-nowhere town in Colorado called South Park as well as the new town of Weed County._

At that moment the stupid official Chinese censor, who had been in his room the entire time to supervise, began pacing the room. Annoyed but head still racing with ideas, Stan continued to write.

_Lead singer and founding member Stan Marsh needed a way to cope with the stress of living on a stupid weed farm that his stupid father had purchased. His mother would not tell his dad to 'fuck off' and take her kids away from the farm and to top it off, Stan's best friend Kyle was now being detained in a Mexican detainment camp! Stan didn't know what he could do to remedy any of these problems._

The Chinese censor peered over to look at what he wrote. Occasionally he would cross out something he had written down. He had even laughed at his story so far! But then he crossed it out before ripping the paper up entirely. Blood boiling more now Stan took out the laptop his grandparents had gotten him last time they came for a visit a couple months ago and began typing away. Surely the Chinese censor wouldn't have him edit his work if it were electronic! He was wrong about that too. And it went on and on like this until finally it was time to get ready for bed. Thankfully the Chinese censor left when Stan told him to 'fuck off so I can go to bed'. Stan was tired at this point yet after he took a shower, brushed his teeth, and got under his covers, he couldn't shut his mind off just yet. He wanted to go back to his notebook and laptop and write some more even if it was risking it from the censors. The man had placed a device on his laptop that would signal anytime he opened Microsoft Word and began typing away. Best to stick with traditional paper. Stan got up, found his notebook and pencil and held a flashlight to it as he began to write once more, this time without being monitored by anyone.

October 5th. Stan was currently siting down on the sidewalk with Butters, Kenny, and Jimmy, highly upset and annoyed that their biopic was becoming such a failure at this point.

"I can't do it anymore you guys," Stan confessed. "I can't even think with the Chinese government censoring everything I write."

"So there's not going to be a biopic movie for us?" Butters looked upset.

Stan was glaring at his knees now. "It's so wrong, you know? We live in a time when the only movies us American kids go see are ones that are approved by China."

"Yeah. It's like China's the new MPAA," Jimmy added.

Butters still looked troubled. "Stinks to say goodbye to all that money and glory."

"We just gotta face it; a death metal band is never going to make any real money anymore. The only band that would get approved by China would be all vanilla and cheesy." Stan could feel tears sting his eyes now. "I'm gonna have to live on that fucking farm forever," he choked out before burying his face in his arms and sobbing softly. He felt Butters touch his arm in a comforting sort of way.

At that moment a bus pulled up and out stepped Kyle with Cartman.

Stan looked up, excited. "Kyle! Dude you're back!"

Kyle looked annoyed as he asked Stan if anything had happened while he had been away. Stan told him he was working on a biopic for the band he had created in his absence. Only then did something strike Stan's brain.

"I just had the best idea ever!" Stan suddenly exclaimed. "Kyle, Cartman, how would you like to be part of the Crimson Dawn biopic?"

"Sounds pretty sweet to me of course. How much money is it going to pay?" Cartman asked.

"That's to be determined after it comes out in theaters," Stan passed off before turning to his best friend. "Dude, Kyle, what do you say?"

Kyle sighed as he looked at him. "I don't know Stan. What with all the countless ideas and schemes we've had over the years what makes you think this is the one that's going to work?"

"Please dude, I want to at least try. You don't know how much I hate living on that stupid weed farm. I have to get away for good."

"Away to where dude? You're only ten; you really think you'll be able to live on your own?"

Stan was feeling agitated by Kyle's sour attitude right now. "Fine, my mom can move into the sweet log house I buy in the woods if she wants. _Maybe_ my sister…anyway, what gives? You usually jump on any idea I have."

Kyle shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry Stan, I'm just annoyed by the whole detainment camp thing. They told me my parents and brother should be arriving home today too. I just hope my brother is doing okay; I'm not sure where he was this entire time. (_Sigh_) I guess being part of your band thing would be a good distraction and change of pace. What do you have in mind?"

"I have to come up with a cheesy and lame idea for my biopic. Something that will please everyone, especially the Chinese censors."

"Cheesy and lame… cheesy and lame…" Cartman began walking back and forth, rubbing his chin. "Well it has to be something nostalgic. Something that will make people go 'oh, I remember those days!'" he said in a mocking voice.

"Nostalgia is a big thing these days," Kyle agreed.

"Well uhh, what's a big nostalgic time for most people?" Butters had to ask.

Stan thought for a second and smiled. "I know when."

It didn't take much to convince Cartman to bring back their boy band Fingerbang although he was pissed off that Stan was using _his_ idea for his biopic. They were two completely different styles! But Stan had figured out how to reach that point in his script now. Crimson Dawn would rise to stardom even with all the trials and tribulations of each band member's messed up personal lives until they have a falling out. At that moment lead singer and founder of the band, Stan, would find solace when his best friend returns to town. With Kyle's help he gets back on his feet and everyone agrees to do a gig in front of millions as the new band Fingerbang, a band that was to signify everyone's newfound hope and strength and love for one another. And everything would be set in the year 1984, supposedly a magical year for many to reminisce about.

But as Stan was filming for the big Broncos Live Aid 1984 gig, he felt a tug at his heart and he couldn't continue. It just didn't feel right, betraying his original band and sound for something vanilla and cheesy. He told off the producer and Chinese censors before the entire project was pulled completely. Of course his friends asked if their band had indeed 'broken up.' All Stan could do was shrug and say that if the moment arose to practice, he would call them together again. He would indeed hate for all their talent and efforts go to waste. Of course at this point, since Kyle and Cartman had returned to town they wanted a part of the pie- should anything ever happen. Stan reluctantly allowed Cartman in by having him play his toy keyboard and Kyle would be manager. Again, just to shut them up about Crimson Dawn.

October 10th. Stan wished he could be feeling happy right now. He should, right? His mother had finally stood up for herself and the family as a whole by telling off his father about his stupid Tegridy Farms idea. Randy was making a big deal about the company celebrating $300,000 in sales but blowing said money on stupid shit like commercials and parades for himself. Sharon had finally snapped at Randy and had gone off upstairs. His sister followed after. Stan was of course fed up with the weed business too and followed after them both. When he met up with his mom upstairs he saw her packing some things in a suitcase in her room.

"Kids, pack up some things. We are leaving this stupid farm right now," Sharon spoke.

Stan's eyes went wide and he smiled. "Really? We're really finally leaving?"

"Where are we going?" Shelley asked.

"I don't know. A motel, somewhere away from here. Now hurry up, I want you both to be down at the car in a half hour."

And that was indeed where Stan had found himself that Thursday night. In a motel in South Park. It wasn't a bad room either but he was still surprised at the turn of events. Suddenly his phone went off and he looked to see it was Kyle.

"Oh, hey dude."

There was a lot of laughter on the other line.

"Um, Kyle? What's up?"

Kyle stopped to try and catch his breath. "Dude- Stan, you just missed it. You missed something hilarious the entire time you were gone from school and from South Park today! Cartman- get this- Cartman was put into- into a Immunization Round Up Event where he- where he was running around naked, refusing to- to allow someone to give him a shot! It was hilarious!" he spoke, chuckling through it all.

Stan frowned. "Umm, okay?"

"No dude you had to have been there. I saw it all on TV."

"I haven't been near a TV all day. My mom and sister and I just found this motel room and"-

"Well does it have Wi-Fi? You have data on your phone don't you? You have to find highlights, it was so good. That fat tub of lard making such an idiot of himself because he didn't want to get a shot! It was hysterical."

Stan sighed and rubbed tired eyes. "Kyle, I'm sure there are funnier things. I mean, yeah Cartman is stupid to refuse getting any shots. They _do_ work. But he kind of"-

"Just look it up Stan. I'll show you myself. What motel are you guys at right now?"

Stan rolled his eyes. "East Hills."

"Cool. Meet you at the corner store across the street. See you."

Stan hung up. He didn't really care to see Cartman running around like a pig, he didn't like needles either, but the thought kind of made Stan grin slightly. Stan would never react in such a way. At least, no way would his mother ever accept such behavior from him. Shrugging, Stan grabbed his wallet, told his mom he'd be out, and went to meet Kyle at the corner store. Life was once again resetting itself back to normal, and Stan somehow knew he'd be back on Tegridy Farms and dealing with his dad's stupid shit yet again by his birthday. He'd just enjoy the time away from the farm until then.

_I was finally given inspiration to write about Stan living on Tegridy Farms! I've gotten a couple requests for such a story and I honestly didn't know what to write about. Then the hilarious episode Band in China happened and finally I knew what I wanted to write. Stan's poem he reads to the class is my own words. I also was able to lead this story into the episode that followed, Shots! And anyone who knows my stories must know I am feeling extremely conflicted at the moment. I honestly wish I didn't care so much but it's just how I am. I'm going to say Cartman and Stan both don't like needles at this point. Only difference is Stan knows better than to behave like that. And no way would Sharon allow her son to act like that to begin with. I might create a one-shot based off that episode, I don't know. Anyway, please do leave a review. That would be great._

_Lots of love: Rose, October 17, 2019_


End file.
